Group of women doing squats in an exercise class.

Give it a squat for Lifeline

63 people die by suicide every week in Australia.

That’s why I’m taking on the challenge to do 63 squats a day in December. I’m hoping to raise some awareness and funds for Lifeline, a 24/7 Australian crisis support service.

Lee-Ann, a woman with long black hair tied into two French braids, points to the text on her dark blue T-shirt that reads "Hope starts with me".
Hope starts with me.

If you read Black and Blue, you’ll know Jade is struggling with her mental health. Even though the story is fictional, it’s no secret that I did draw heavily on my own history of depression and anxiety to get inside Jade’s head.

Lifeline helped me when I felt like I was completely alone. Now that I’m in a pretty good place, I’d like to help them continue to provide support to others. $39 enables a Lifeline crisis supporter to answer one call but every little bit is valuable.

Obviously money’s tight right now so I don’t know if I’ll be able to get people to sponsor me but I’ll give it a shot. And a lot of squats!

If you can spare a few bucks, please donate. You’ll be helping me feel better about the burning in my quads and glutes… but more importantly, you’ll be helping Lifeline save lives.

Here’s the link to the Facebook fundraising page: I’m completing 63 squats a day in December for Lifeline

You can also donate directly via my Instagram profile: @ leeannkhoh

If you can’t donate, consider sharing the fundraiser and maybe sending some words of encouragement. Like “keep going” or “get lower” or “biatch, you’re Asian, surely you came out of the womb squatting”. 😜

If you want to donate, but can’t do the Facebook/Instagram/Meta thing, let me know and we can figure something out.

Anyway, whether you can contribute a little or not, I know the festive season can be rough for people so do take care.

Aussies needing support can call 13 11 14, SMS 0477 13 11 14, or chat online. Internationals, please reach out to the relevant organisation(s) where you are.

Text reads: Support my 63 Squats a Day IN December to bring hope and save lives. Lifeline #Squats2SaveLives.
Sponsor the Lifeline #Squats2SaveLives challenge.
Close-up of a pair of hands typing on a typewriter.

Sonnet No.1 implies the existence of further sonnets

I haven’t written many sonnets. I mean, they’re often poems about love and I hate everyone. Just kidding. I’ve just traditionally been more of a free verse and blank verse girl, I guess.

But I did pen my first ever sonnet earlier this year, creatively titled “Sonnet No.1”. (Hey, it’s good enough for Shakespeare, it’s good enough for me.)

Front cover of The Other Side of Pain: poetry, art, and photos by members of the poetry club. The cover features a black and white close-up of a woman holding a lit match in front of her face.
The Other Side of Pain: poetry, art, and photos by members of the poetry club.
November 2023 member magazine.

You can find “Sonnet No.1” in the official 2023 Poetry Club member magazine. The theme was healing and the collection is called The Other Side of Pain. It’s available as a free downloadable ebook so go check it out! You might even discover your new favourite poet/artist (probably not me, but I’ll be flattered if it’s me, lol).

Read The Other Side of Pain by the Poetry Club.

I’m planning to release a poetry book at some point… but first I need to sculpt my scraps into a reasonably coherent collection. 😉

Text reads: Deodo-rant. Background contains a woman showing her armpit.

Deodo-rant (aka I may or may not have crafted a blog post based on a pun)

I don’t know who needs to hear this but your natural deodorant does not work. Everyone is just being exceedingly polite to you.

Okay, I’m sure natural deodorants do work really well for some people. As in, work right away – when they’re supposed to. None of this “you need to detox your armpits for 7 to 28 days” BS. Seriously, do y’all not have jobs or classes or literally anything that requires you to interact with another human?

But if you’ve found a winning natural deodorant, more power to you. I’ve just encountered a lot of natural deo wearers who somehow managed to reek every day by 9.30am whilst working in an air conditioned office. Obviously I never said anything to them, since I’m all about that “avoid conflict in the moment and just post passive aggressively on the internet many years later” life.

I’ve also tried a couple over the years, but they gave me dermatitis before I even got to the stage of testing it during an intense workout or stressful situation. Plus, they left an annoying residue everywhere.

But I’m more open than the tone of this blog post might suggest.

Personally, I’d love to find a reliable natural deodorant that doesn’t burn my skin, stick to my clothes or leave white marks all over me.

Not because I have any concerns about putting aluminum next to my boobs or on my pores or whatever. “Natural” doesn’t automatically equate to “good”, and I’m perfectly happy to roll on some antiperspirant for the rest of my life unless my actual physician tells me I need to stop.

My main interest in natural deodorant is that a lot of them seem to come in packaging that’s either biodegradable or easily reusable and recyclable. And that’s something I can definitely get behind.

Just not the stinking and burning.

Text reads: The thermogenic effect of driving. Background contains a road leading into a dark forest.

The thermogenic effect of driving

in my throat
I feel
my heart
rising
my Fitbit thinks
I’m exercising
but I’m just
scared
still.

Just a little instant poem to go with my instant noodles, lol. Definitely won’t win any awards… but it’s based on a true story.

You see, my beloved Fitbit detected 43 minutes of moderate activity from me on Thursday afternoon – due to my heart rate hitting 133 beats per minute.

I was not doing any exercise, moderate or otherwise. I was, in fact, sitting in a car taking my practical driving assessment, hoping to get my manual driver’s licence.

Yeah, I was hella nervous. 😅

Fitbit screenshot shows Moderate activity from 1:52pm-2:34pm (39 active zone minutes, 219 calories burned) and from 1:33pm-1:37pm (4 active zone minutes, 19 calories burned).
Screenshot of the “Moderate activity” recorded by Fitbit during Lee-Ann’s driving test.

I already had an automatic licence. I passed that test on the first go, which I still say was a massive fluke. My therapist says I need to have more confidence in my abilities. I mean, those things are not mutually exclusive…

Anyway, I’d already failed a manual test earlier this year. Let’s just say I’m a very anxious person, and panicking in a manual car is a lot more obvious than in an auto.

But I passed my second attempt! Despite Fitbit confusing it for a workout.

It wasn’t a perfect drive, but it was solid and I demonstrated to a neutral stranger that I can drive without endangering myself and others. Which is obviously what you want.

I used to hate driving any class of vehicle with a passion, but over the course of learning to drive a manual, this driving thing has grown on me.

Though if I ever become rich and important enough to have a limo and a personal chauffeur deal with the whole gamut of road users for me, I may well take that option. 😛

Text reads: The burnout bar. Background contains photo of a fuel gauge close to empty.

The burnout bar

Hey blog world. I’m not dead! Just really busy. And sleep deprived (yay for chronic insomnia).

But it’s the WA Day public holiday here in Western Australia, so I carved out some time to pen a few thoughts. And with “state daddy” Mark McGowan announcing his resignation as Premier and Member for Rockingham a week ago due to burnout, it got me thinking about my own breaking point.

It was late on a Sunday afternoon in the summer of 2012. I was in my friend’s car, and he was driving me home from the Scarborough pub that would later loosely inspire the Sherlock Arms in Black and Blue.

But that manuscript was still a while away. On this Sunday, I was just a girl in a car, crying because I had to go to my Toxic Job the next day.

I would continue to alternate between crying, nausea and total numbness every week until I finally quit that job with nothing lined up. I was still at the beginning of my career, but I’d always been quite anxious and cautious – so up until that moment, I never thought I’d be the person who left a job without a backup plan.

I realise many people don’t have the luxury of being able to do that anyway. But I did, I took the chance and I don’t regret it. I was burnt out and dying inside.

It’s been 10 years now but I did actually learn a lot from Toxic Job. Like how not to behave as a professional… Think workplace affairs between managers and direct reports, threats against ex-employees, exploitation of recent graduates less likely to know how to advocate for themselves, and just gross misconduct.

But more to the point, Toxic Job became my bar.

I have high levels of social anxiety and moderate levels of generalised anxiety. I find I have to put up with things I’m uncomfortable with pretty much every day of my life in order to participate in society. That’s just the way it is, and it can be exhausting, but I handle it.

However, Toxic Job is the standard I won’t walk past. If anything ever gets as bad or feels as icky as that, whether it’s in a professional or personal context, I’m checking out.

Writing-wise, things are moving pretty slowly but I’ve got two projects in the works: my second novel and a poetry collection. So that will probably be books 2 and 3 – I don’t know which will be ready first at this stage, but that answer should reveal itself in due course.